


be clean be clear and confident

by Kuewnasi



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Just Peter B getting his life together, Peter B. Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18439805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuewnasi/pseuds/Kuewnasi
Summary: Peter had to admit, it was nice seeing a little more space in his place after a couple days of cleaning. So far he managed to go through his books, clothes, necessaries, and at-last, the box simply labeled ‘junk’.That was when Peter stumbled across his camera.In between the gadgets and trinkets that he dug through, lo and behold there it was, covered in dust along with the flash. The lens are slightly scratched and still attached to the straps.In other words, Peter B. Parker decided to manage a routine, took up photography again and visit the others along the way.





	be clean be clear and confident

prelude.

 

One of the first things Peter did to get his shit together was looking up ways to combat his depression instead of eating it away. He read several articles and so far a majority recommended getting into a routine and setting goals, supported by legitimate links, therapists and small community pages. 

Peter B. Parker just sat there, reflecting. Being Spider-Man, pizza time (the discounts always lured him in), getting into shape and watching nature documentaries became his basic routine. The more he thought about it, it does leave a somewhat pathetic impression on his daily living. ‘You can start small’, Dr. Taylor said in her article, ‘make your goal something that you can succeed, such as cleaning dishes or tidying up your room.’

Tidying up, huh. Peter glanced at the cardboard boxes piled in the corner of his tiny studio flat.

That could be a good start.

 

 i. the camera

 

Peter had to admit, it was nice seeing a little more space in his place after a couple of days of cleaning. So far he managed to go through his books, clothes, necessaries, and at-last, the box simply labeled ‘junk’.

That was when Peter stumbled across his camera.

In between the gadgets and trinkets that he dug through, lo and behold there it was, covered in dust along with the flash. The lens are slightly scratched and still attached to the straps.

Peter examined it and memories flooded through his brain. Of knocking down bad guys, of obnoxious selfies, of Aunt May’s laughter, of MJ’s smiling face, of their wedding and everyone was cheering and crying out of joy-

He immediately inhaled deeply and counted. _1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and- 10._

Peter opened his eyes.

He glanced at the camera again and then towards his window. The view wasn’t spectacular, if anything it’s just directly facing a brick wall and his neighbors’ windows. He booted it up and aimed towards the view. 

The shutter still works and that is one fine red brick wall.

 

 ii. old sights, old wounds

 

Peter started his schedule.

Morning was flexible. He’d either do crunches and push-ups or went out for a jog and then grab a McDonald breakfast set because he’s a hypocrite. Afternoon and night were Spider-Man duties or taking his camera out for a walk in-between and sometimes it was both.

Being Spider-Man was easy enough to take all the glamour shots as he perched on high places no one else could reach (unless they owned a flying drone and Peter finds them annoying). It reminds him of his old days working for the Daily Bugle, how he became the kid with the stupidly but amazing signature pictures and his back-and-forth petty arguments with Jameson. 

Taking photographs on foot was…difficult.

At first, Peter just walked aimlessly with no direction in mind and took pictures that piqued his interest despite how mundane they were. Like his favourite bagel place, the family-owned pizza joints, his go-to Chinese takeouts, a surviving little Ukrainian shop famous for their delicious pierogis. The list goes on and Peter became self-aware how it’s mostly food-related it’s embarrassing. 

And then, the sights became familiar.

One time, he found himself standing outside the public library where it used to be his private sanctuary but at the same time uncle Ben bled on the very ground he stood on. Another time he found himself going back to the home he grew up in, the house has been renovated with a clean paint job and nice fences- no flower pots, no run-down bicycle, no traces of Aunt May, now buried next to uncle Ben. Even passing by Broadway street didn’t helped. He remembered the fancy restaurant where he first took MJ out for a proper date, where they used to talked about their dreams and future when they were wide-eyed before he shut her out and now look at _you_ , _you fucking loser_ -

His chest ached, and it hurt so, so much.

Peter stopped and repeated his breathing exercise. Count one to ten. Clear your head goddammit.

His hands trembled but Peter forced himself to bring the camera to his eye.

 

iii. sunrise

 

For whatever reason, Peter found himself fixated with sunrises over time.

On his occasional morning jogs, he can’t help but stare at how the orange and red blended into the clear blue. He started to make a gradual habit to wake up early when the sky is still dark and bleak. Even if it just meant standing on the roof despite his tired brain and his eyes ready to drift off to sleep. It felt mesmerizing and also therapeutic just watching the actual thing. 

The same thing can be said for sunsets, it’s like once of those fast-forward videos but in real time and Peter’s head never felt so clear and a warm tingling feeling he can’t decipher into words.

Maybe it’s a reminder he’s still here.

 

 iv. Peni

 

Peter first went to Peni’s universe to thank the kid in person. Their last encounter was a quick one when the kid flung the gizmo watch (specifically a communicator) at him with rushed instructions and a manual pad. It’s been about two months since the collider incident.

“Aww! You could always just text, you know?”

The little girl giggled and hugged him. For a twelve year-old, she surprisingly got some strength as her embrace nearly toppled him over but he accepted it with full gusto.

Peter just chuckled as he bend down to meet her eye-to-eye and ruffled her hair. “Nah, kid. Thought to thank the person who even made this physically possible and I haven’t even glitched one bit." 

Because Peter can’t even imagine the scientific research, tests or late nights Peni must have sacrificed. She’s brilliant that way and the older man see a bright future ahead of her.

“Anyway, mind giving me a tour? I been taking up photography lately.” He sheepishly grinned while bringing up his camera.

She stared wide-eyed at his camera as if it’s a specimen waiting to be dissected and then goes on about it being one of the picture-taking tools that the ancient ones developed. Peter can’t imagine any other of his everyday mundane utilities being considered a relic and he’s only in his late 30s. Fascination aside, she was more than happy to be his tour guide as she excitedly pulled on his hand.

They explored outside and the first thing Peter noticed was how damn dark it was in Peni’s universe if it weren’t for the illuminating city lights.

New York City was simply revamped to Neo-New York like in the sci-fi flicks Peter seen in the cinemas. It glowed shades of purple and blue amidst the darkness. Advertisements were no longer limited to static billboards and screens as they can now be projected on an entire building like pretty models and slogans, 2D images can be transformed into physical holograms, neon lights has never been this obnoxiously apparent, cars were finally and actually soaring in the air and hold on was that dude’s mohawk _a hologram?_

“Summer is way better, you can actually see blue skies. it’s really pretty.”

Peni casually mentioned at one point, still holding Peter’s hand and Sp//dr perched on her shoulder while munching on some caramel popcorn. Peter recognized the iconic brand but the shops closed down in this universe so she had to buy in corner shops where they illegally distribute it.

Peter just quietly ate the sweet popcorn and craned his neck to find a mist of fog from a distance where Peni pointed out to be the industrial districts and said you had to wear a mask.

She then ducked her head, “you know, ever since coming to Miles' universe, I never realized how clean the air can be. I even took a picture of the sun while we were still there." 

Moments later, she quietly said, “that was a dumb thing to say, wasn’t it?”

Peter blankly stared at her. God, they fucked up big time.

Ofcourse, Peter didn’t say that out-loud. Instead, he tightened his hand around her’s and just said, “you can also come by my place, if you want. Plenty of fresh oxygen for everyone and your favourite popcorn is still pretty big.”

She beamed up at him and wrapped her arms around his torso.

The precious smile on her face was worth it.

 

v. Noir

 

Unsurprisingly, Noir’s world was like a physical representation of those black and white films Peter seen as a kid. Uncle Ben had a collection and Peter never remembered where they were. A pity, really.

It felt both surreal and like a piece of art that he was able to interact with and he’s still in Noir’s apartment. It’s a regular tidy flat, a far cry from his messy studio space but with objects Peter seen in niche flea markets such as the bulky TV set and the gramophone. The only thing that stuck out was the colourful rubik’s cube that Peni gifted him, the colours now all perfectly coordinated and Peter felt really proud.

“So, you want a tour or something?” Noir asked as he sipped his black coffee. Peter asked for milk in his.

For the very first time, Peter seen him unmasked. It was like looking at a twin, if said twin was made of monochrome colours, neat combed over hair and wore a pair of round spectacles that he looked like a nerd. He was also clean-shaven and looked younger, perhaps in his late twenties. Which is uncanny given how deep his voice is and the more Peter listened he sounded like goddamn Nicholas Cage. 

“Yeah”, Peter coughed as he showed off his camera, “picking back up a hobby.” 

Noir leaned over, bringing a hand under his chin. “Huh, they finally made these portable?”

Peter grinned as he passed the camera, “yeah man, mass produced for the common folk.” He then frowned with no heat, “Peni called it ancient, the nerve.”

Noir quietly chuckled as he inspected the gadget with great interest. Peter noted how fond his smile looked just at the mention of her name. “No surprise there, the doll lives in a world decades ahead of us. But sure, I’ll show you the big apple.”

And just like that, Peter found himself in Noir’s spare coat and hat as he observed the monochrome world. It was only 2pm in the afternoon and the sky was a soft grey colour. The sights felt familiar yet so different. There weren’t as many towering skyscrapers while the Empire State Building stood out the most like a majestic sore thumb. The buildings weren’t plastered with LED screens or gigantic billboards that didn’t shoved products down his throat, which was a nice change of pace. But New York City was bustling as always with vintage cars, construction sites, and crowds of people roaming the streets doing their everyday thing. The grey-scale photos looked like they belong in a museum or a history textbook it’s surreal.

Noir asked if he was okay if he did some grocery shopping to which Peter didn’t mind until he entered the shop and lost his goddamn mind.

“ _What the fuck_? _”_ He said while looking at the price tags. Most of the items cost below a dollar such as a white loaf (8 cents) while both eggs and a gallon of milk were barely 50 cents that Peter could practically store a load of these and save his broke ass. 

Young women who stood not too far from them gasped in horror as if he did the most heinous thing in the world its almost hysterical. Noir shot him a quick glare before apologizing to the ladies and claimed he was a distant cousin who lived overseas. Noir treated him an egg cream afterwards at a shady bar he often frequent at. Despite the name, it doesn’t contained eggs whatsoever as it tasted similar to an ice cream float and Peter nearly lost his shit when he was told it only cost five cents.

“Milkshakes sometimes cost 4 bucks back home”, Peter shared as he sipped his drink.

The other man stared at him with a scandalized expression and the other spider wondered whether he should share the story about the one time he and Miles ate burgers worth $30,000 at a C graded burger joint.

 

vi. Ham

 

Upon arriving in Ham’s world, it was like bring greeted by Saturday morning cartoons Peter used to watch. The world felt so flat, the details were merely lines and shapes while having this colourful palette.

“So what’s up, B? Here for a tour? On a dangerous mission? To join me on a epic crime-fighting adventure?”

Somehow in the middle of his sentence, Ham spontaneously switched outfits (from his spider costume to a complete tourist attire to an Indiana Jones-esque outfit) as he spun and turn that Peter didn’t spoke for two whole minutes.

For the sake of his sanity, Peter just suspended his disbelief and cracked a grin. “The first choice, if you so be kind.” 

“Will do, pal!” And with a snap of his fingers, Ham opted for a tour guide outfit with a mini red flag with a spider symbol to boot.

Peter didn’t dare question it and just as he was about to walk, the shorter spider suddenly exclaimed, “hold on!” With a (abnormally stretched) raised hand stopping him in his tracks and Peter nearly tripped. 

“ _What_?”

Ham shot him a ‘are you serious?’ look. “No offence, B. But humans aren’t that common around here so I’mma fraid’ you need yourself a disguise.”

Peter doesn’t mind. He managed to blend in Noir’s world and it was black and white. What he _does_ mind is that his ‘disguise’ is nothing more than a paper lunch bag with holes and a stupid smiley face drawn on it. Ham snickered and stole his camera unnoticed to take a picture to which Peter just flipped him the bird.

And so, Ham led him a tour of his New York. The sky was this pastel green-yellow colour, the tall buildings were shades of blue, purple and grey while the architecture itself didn’t make sense with slanted structures and randomly placed windows. Buildings further away looked like solid background silhouette that the pictures that he took could be mistaken as illustrations. Complete with anthropomorphic animals as its inhabitants as they chatted amongst themselves with exaggerated gestures while going about their businesses.

“Does that building seriously fucking say ‘ _Evil Villain Lair’_?”

Peter pointed out to the single, dark skyscraper in the middle of the city and the only building to have dark, red clouds hanging above it as if it didn’t screamed villainous enough.

Ham just shrugged nonchalantly, “yep! Doc Lobster lives there.”

Peter paused, _was Doc Oct a lobster in this world?_

Instead, the older man just asked, “and no one gave a shit?”

“Well, the doc often gives generous donations.”

Peter wisely didn’t ask anymore as they continued to walk down the streets. They bought some milkshakes along the way at a joint called ‘Uncle Frankfurter’s Hot Dogs’ and Peter nearly accepted the hot dog (because it’s a staple of his diet other than pizza) until Ham claimed it was 100% beef followed by a wink and Peter dropped it all together.

The last picture that he took was the Statue of Liberty. Except instead of a lady, it’s a rabbit and Peter swore it winked at him.

 

vii. Miles

 

“ _Peter!_ ”

Was the first thing the older man heard before something ran into him and this time he really toppled onto the concrete ground.

“Oof.”

Atleast Miles has the decency to shot him an apologetic grin before pulling him back up. Peter straightened his back and winched when he could heard an audible crack, “sheesh kid, you could have given me a easy welcome.”

Miles grinned, almost embarrassed as he rubbed his neck, “sorry, man. Just missed you, that’s all.”

Ofcourse Peter is not mad at him. There’s something about Miles that brought out his soft spot out of his dead, tired soul. The way Miles gave him this genuine earnest expression it nearly hurt because Peter sometimes felt like he doesn’t deserve it but he will goddamn try his best for this kid.

He just chuckled, “nah, it’s alright, Miles.”

The kid crookedly smiled at him again before his expression softened. “How’d you been?” He asked so quietly and Peter can already hear the underlying question, ‘have you talked to MJ yet?’.

Peter managed a small smile, “I’m alright, getting my life together.”

Miles tilted his head, “yeah? How is it so far?”

The older man shrugged and shared his current attempt at managing a routine as he trailed off a list with his fingers. Getting fit, hero stuff, nature documentaries and photography. Yep, sounds about right.

Miles hummed and tilted his head in thought, “hmm, how bout’ adding being a mentor to the list?”

Despite the kid’s jokey smirk, Peter can hear a hint of seriousness and to be honest, if he exactly recalled Miles only had like a day- or two to even adapt to being Spider-Man? Peter doesn’t envy him in the slightest if it weren’t for the shitty situations that all happened spontaneously and the older spider can remembered the tears Miles wept for his dead uncle. Guilt pooled in his stomach when he first denied the kid because back then Peter was a grade-A asshole (and frankly, he still can be). 

Peter softly smiled, “sure, kid. I’ll teach you.”

The kid’s eyes immediately lit up, ready to bounce on his feet and Peter can already feel his energy drained just from his excitement. Kids sure have that effect, he thought to himself as he laughed, bringing up a hand, “but first, mind giving me a tour? A proper one, please.”

Because the last thing Peter remembered was his body flying all over the place and getting smacked into several obstacles that Miles looked guilty at the memory as he sheepishly grinned, “I got you.”

And so, Miles led him around his home turf, Brooklyn, both in casual attires with their spider suits underneath. It looked similar to Peter’s universe but a tint more busy with the added projected advertisings similar to Peni’s universe without it being too overwhelming but you can still see clear blue skies and white clouds. The landmarks were rearranged weirdly and there were more towering skyscrapers and in between Peter closely noticed ‘Hello My Name Is’ stickers with Miles' signature art its cute. Walking around, it was also like playing a game of spot the difference. Brand names were notably different, from the likes of Koca-Soda and WcDonald (“ _now that’s just lazy_ ”) to Red Man Group (“ _they look like a cult now_ ”) and iBites (“ _okay, that kinda sounds adorable_ ”) and many more.

“IHOB?” Peter pointed out.

Miles blinked, “uh, yeah? Would you actually believe that they changed it to International House of Pancakes for an April fools stunt? I can't see them just making pancakes.”

Peter just stared at Miles until the latter told him to cut it out.

They stopped by an ice cream truck afterwards and Peter lost it after he learned that in Miles’ universe an ice cream cost around $140 and more. Inflation was fucking real. The older man has no idea why but he settled for the spider-man popsicle. It looked as ugly as his one back home but at the same time it perfectly captured his inner garbage-self.

“Did you know back in Noir’s world that a hot dog only cost a quarter?”

Miles looked at him with surprise because asking, “wait, you been to his universe?”

Peter nodded and shared stories about his universe-hopping adventures. He started with Peni’s obnoxiously neon Neo-New York in all its cyber futuristic glory, hologram hairdos, and how the sun is such a rare sight. (“Did you know she had to take a picture of that yellow thing while she was here? That’s how bad global warming is in her place.”).

He talked about Noir’s monochromatic universe, how it’s a perfect reminiscent of those old grey-scale films, 30’s lingo and the ridiculous low prices (granted, the great depression was happening) that Miles stared at him gobsmacked. (“I met him without his mask. It was like staring back at a nerdy, younger twin.”)

Explaining Ham’s universe was somewhat difficult so Peter simply summarized it as those wacky slapstick cartoons with pretty art and Miles asked him to bring the actual photos next time for artistic reference. The older spider spoke about the local folks, the over-the-top gestures that defied the law of physics and the blatantly obvious evil tower where Ham’s arch-nemesis lived. (“I didn’t dare to touch the meat.”) 

“You haven’t been to Gwen’s yet?”

Peter bit his lips. The headline: ‘ _Teenage Girl Fell Victim to Green Goblin’_ glimpsed in his mind. The way Gwen sneaked looks in his direction, all of them haunted as if she seen a ghost.

“No. I mean, not yet.”

He wondered whether Miles picked up the heaviness in his tone that the kid looked a tad taken back.

Thankfully, the boy swiftly changed topics, “…wanna check out my little hideout?”

Said hideout was nothing more than what appeared to be an abandoned area underground. There was a cozy sofa chair, a table with tools, gadgets and a computer, all courtesy of Aunt May because that's how wonderful she is. Last of all, there was a ton of graffiti art on the walls that Peter gave a low whistle, genuinely impressed at the beautiful artworks. He asked Miles for permission to take photos and the teen happily said yes before he proceeded to take landscape shots of the graffiti walls. He stopped by the last one, it displayed a silhouette of a person and the cursive word, ‘expectations’.

Miles noticed and his voice grew somber, “that was one of the last things I did with uncle Aaron.”

A small beat.

Peter just placed a comforting hand on the kid’s shoulder. “It looks great, Miles.”

Miles slowly lifted his head with a soft smile on his face.

 

viii. Gwen

 

Texting Gwen whether he can visit her turf was surprisingly harder than it should be. His anxiety only reduced slightly when she replied back a casual response of ‘sure dude’ and will update him whenever she’s free from band practice.

He eventually arrived in her universe. It felt and looked familiar if not a few years back with iPods only becoming all the rage and smartphones starting to make headlines in the tech news and Peter felt nostalgic just looking at the bulky Nokia flip phone in Gwen’s hands.

“So, got any preferences?” Gwen initiated the small talk as they walked aimlessly in Times Square.

“Not really”, Peter replied as he surveyed the place. The line of yellow taxis never failed to cease nor does the crowd of people, buskers on the side trying to make a living and day time TV hosts were still big enough to appear on billboards while the world move on. 

“Cool”, she said. Her voice sounded stiff but Peter just looked past it.

They walked around without a plan with Gwen just absently pointing out the landmarks. Like the burger joint that closed down in his universe except it’s a grade B with normal prices (thank God), the flourishing Central Park and the swimming ducks, the same public library and the ever busy boulevards. They mostly walked in silence (the terrible kind of awkward) with Peter clicking away with his camera at the sights that tugged his interest. Sometimes Gwen would stare into thin air like something was going to pop up or sneaked glances over his direction. Sometimes Peter would catch glimpses of his Gwen in her (minor differences aside) and she died twenty-two years ago.

It wasn’t until they perched on the rooftops that Peter decided to say it.

“I’m sorry, this was a bad idea wasn’t it?”

Gwen flinched, her back facing him and the older man cursed his dumb mouth. “Fuck- maybe I shouldn’t have said that. You want me to leave?”

She whipped her head back, “no!”

Gwen quickly paused and averted her eyes. She bit her lips and Peter just patiently waited.

“Remember I mentioned losing my best friend?” Gwen’s voice never sounded this quiet. The older man nodded, it was around the time when they all confide in Miles.

She finally looked at him in the eyes (her brilliant blue eyes looked too familiar) and said, “it was my Peter Parker.”

The older spider blankly stared at her. Ofcourse.

Gwen ducked her head. “I’m sorry.” She softly whispered and Peter painstakingly knew it wasn’t towards him.

He took a deep breath, “you know, I had a Gwen Stacy back home.”

Almost immediately, Peter can distinctly remember the news of Gwen Stacy. The only daughter of an officer cop was found dead at an aftermath at the hands of the Green Goblin with her neck simply snapped. (This) Gwen looked up at the sudden information with wide eyes.

Peter wasn’t sure what else to add because he’s shitty at comforting people so he extended his arm out. Gwen’s eyes flickered between the arm and him before she slowly reached out towards him and leaned on his side with his arm over her shoulders. Her mask was gone as she let out a choke and her shoulders trembled against him.

“I’m sorry.” He parroted her words. Towards her and the Gwen he couldn’t save.

The teenager just cried quietly and they sat like that for several minutes. Peter squeezed her shoulder tightly as he gazed out into the distance. Her crying eventually stopped, leaving Gwen with red eyes and wet cheeks. Thankfully Peter got some tissues in his pocket as he passed her an entire pack.

She forced a grin as she wiped her eyes, “heh, thanks.”

Peter’s lips tugged into a small smile and shrugged, “always gotta be prepared. Especially after a scuffle and you’re needed elsewhere”

Gwen chuckled, it sounded sincere this time. “Duly noted.”

The older man looked back at the scenery, just in time for the sunset with the orange blending into the soft pink sky. He then glanced at his camera and offhandedly replied, “you know, Peni called this a relic. I can’t imagine what she'll say just looking at your phone.”

For once, Gwen laughed out loud. It’s a refreshing sound and Peter found himself smiling.

 

 ix. Aunt May

 

“ _You should visit Aunt May_.” Miles pestered him at some point.

Peter was reluctant. It was one thing to see another version of his dead aunt and he wasn’t sure whether that Aunt May wanted to see an older ghost of her dead nephew again but he rang that door bell anyway. Her house has been already patched up and refurbished. Peter felt guilty since he was also involved in the near wreckage of her home.

She opened the door. The older woman first looked at him with a surprised expression before it morphed into something gentle.

“You look better, Peter.” Aunt May softly remarked. “You’re even wearing matching shoes.”

Peter weakly chuckled. “Hey, Aunt May. You good?”

The older woman led him inside and sat him at the dining table. She went to heat up some tea, “you know, Miles told me you were here the other day. Said he was showing you around.”

The older spider unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah, been trying to get into a routine. I found my old camera the other day and decided to take photos here and there. And then Peni made universe-hopping physically possible so I been visiting the other’s places.”

Aunt May hummed and turned to him with cups in hand, her eyes saddened at the mention of the camera and photography. Peter thought idle to himself whether it’s a universal trait that all Peter Parkers are avid photographers. 

Instead of raising that up, Peter just shyly asked, “care to hear some of my adventures?”

Aunt May blinked at first. Her lips then tugged into a smile. “I’d love to.”

And so Peter does. That whole afternoon they just sat at the table with warm chamomile tea and butter cookies as Peter shared his sight-seeing stories. He made sure to describe the rest of the spiders’ universe with the best of his ability with goofy hand gestures but hey, it was nice seeing Aunt May laugh.

“Have you compiled them yet?” Aunt May asked as she sipped her third cup of tea.

Peter bit onto a cookie, “still in the middle of it. I never thought I took that much so I’m thinking to print the ones that are worth it and stick them in a album, I guess.”

She chuckled, “want me to help? Scrapbooking happen to be one of my hobbies.”

Frankly speaking, it was also Peter’s Aunt May as well as she had stack of albums dedicated to him since he was a mere child and all the way to college graduation and the wedding.

 

_(“It’s nice, seeing memories in your hands. Like chapters in our lives, both good and bad.”)_

 

Peter slowly smiled, “sure.”

 

 x. Mary-Jane

 

Scratch it. Reconciling with his ex-wife was harder.

It started with blank stares at MJ’s number on his phone and various scenarios running through in his head. All of them negative and a taunting voice always intrude. It jeered and snarled how much of a coward he was until Peter finally grew so damn tired (and much needed firm reassurances from Aunt May) that he told it to fuck off, put on his best suit, bought a bouquet of pink peonies and found himself standing before her apartment door. He inhaled deeply and shot a fluid of web at the doorbell.

The door slowly opened and there she was. Mary-Jane with her curly red hair, her freckled face and strong green eyes that Peter took pictures countless times before. All of them contained her smiles, her laughter, her joy before things went to shit, before seeing her cry became a familiar sight.

_“Peter?”_

_God_ , when was the last time he heard the sound of her voice?

He opened his mouth and the sentences he profusely practiced beforehand suddenly vanished in his head. Peter internally panicked, wreaking his dumb brain as he scrambled for the right words- the right gestures and the only that came out was:

“ _Hey_. _"_

Peter stilled, silently horrified. That was the best he could come up with?

But then, a familiar sound tugged his attention and he looked up to find MJ sniffling a giggle. She glanced back at him, studying his appearance with a tint of surprise. He wondered whether she noticed the weight loss.

Miraculously, she said yes to dinner the next day.

 

 xi. reconcile 

 

Predictably, dinner was an awkward affair. It started okay, Mary-Jane sharing about her day job (the same non-profit organization and they’re doing really well) while Peter shared about his routine management minus the whole dimension-hopping because a. one step at a time, b. MJ would freak and c. they’re in a public place. And that he applied for editorial and engineering assistant jobs since being Spider-Man doesn’t fully pay the bills (a fact he should be painfully aware of long ago and that he should have never dabbled in the stock market but hey he’s a qualified dumbass for someone with a chemical engineering degree). MJ looked pleasantly surprised and proud on his behalf, which honestly made him happy.

Ofcourse, good things have to come to a halt with Mary-Jane looking hesitant as she absently twirled her spaghetti with her fork and asked the good old question: “Peter, where is this relationship going?”

To be honest, Peter deserved that. Granted he was the fucking idiot who broke her heart and pulled out the divorce card.

“ _Just be honest with her_.” Was Aunt May’s simple advice.

Peter pursed his lips and said the only thing he can think of, “you wanted a family and you know what? Kids can be cool.”

It’s weird, saying that so easily. All after a near-death trip with a newbie spider kid, a spider-woman who takes no shit, a child prodigy and her spider mech, a spider-man from the 30s and a talking spider pig. 

He ducked his head at the last minute, “t-that is, if you want to.”

He lifted his head to find her staring back at him with a (understandably) stunned expression.

A pregnant pause followed by. The only thing filling in the void was the sounds of chatter and cutlery around them. His spider senses picked up a nosy conversation observing his table from afar and Peter fought the urge to tell them to fuck off as he maintained eye contact with MJ.

Finally, she reached over and placed her hand over his. 

MJ heavily sighed, “call me a idiot, but I want to believe you.”

Peter blinked. He could have sworn he felt something wet in his eyes as he replied with a shaky voice, “n-no! I’m the bigger idiot.”

_For hurting you. For brushing you off. You deserve so much better than this piece of trash-_

MJ softly chuckled before giving a firm expression, “but. Do you really mean it, Peter?”

Peter firmly nodded and intertwined their fingers, “I mean it, Mary-Jane. I want to start over again. We can go slow. Start that family life with you with how many kids you want.”

MJ stared at him again, no doubt with many questions about the Peter Parker sitting before her and bluntly speaking Peter would ask the same thing.

Eventually, her lips perked up, “okay.”

 

 

_(“How do you know I won’t mess it up?”_

_“You won’t.”)_

 

 

xii. the spiders

 

Peter eventually told MJ about the rest.

He sat her down one night with Noir’s go-to coffee blend and Aunt May’s chocolate chip cookies and shared his heavy tale. About another Kingpin in another dimension who lost his family and attempted to retrieve them back via the collider despite it being the risk of multiple universes because that’s how terribly shitty he can be. A curse and a blessing as that was how he met other spider folks like him.

A spider-pig with a witty mouth whose world is a living, breathing outlandish cartoon that defied logic and physics. A spider-detective who sounded like Nicholas Cage from the 1930s whose world is one living film noir. A cheerful child prodigy and her giant spider mech who lived in a far away future where the sun rarely shows up while the neon lights glows on. A headstrong spider-teen whose world is a decade earlier where phones are still bulky and apple started launching. A spider-kid whose world is a few decades later and he’s real good with graffiti art. This same spider-kid is still new to the job but MJ you won’t believe what other awesome powers this kid has, he can go invisible and create static shocks he got _potential_.

Throughout his stories, MJ’s reactions shifted from shock and disgust to surprise and curiosity. It was when he was in the middle of talking about the spider gang (especially the kids) that she found herself smiling.

“Was that how you were convinced that kids could be great?”

Peter nearly snorted, “apparently. I mean, they still take a lotta energy out of you.”

MJ chuckled, "they sound great.” 

Peter puffed out his chest with pride, damn straight they were. Speaking of the gang… 

“Wanna see the photos I took while visiting them?” 

To which he does as he took them out of one of the spare cardboard boxes. Each spider have their own individual designs, the idea belonged to Aunt May as she found simply slapping their name on the cover lazy. Ham’s was a bright one with cartoonish effects plastered all over. Noir’s was a simply monochrome one. Peni’s followed the signature spider-man colours with adorable robot stickers. Gwen’s was striking white, pink and black and a little drum sticker on the side. Miles’ was a strong black and red one with stickers of lightning strikes and spray cans.

MJ chuckled and cooed over the efforts while Peter blushed and deliberately averted his eyes. It was better than Aunt May’s ‘it’s like your first kid’s album or something’ when he was decorating Miles’ photo album.

As MJ flipped through each and every one of them, her eyes grew fonder while Peter recounted his visits. The older spider found himself smiling at the little group pictures and the sneaky photographs he took of the other spiders. Like Peni’s beaming expressions, Noir’s rare crooked grins, Ham’s ridiculous poses, Gwen’s quiet laughter and Miles' warm smiles.

“I would like to meet them.” MJ requested with a smile.

Peter wholeheartedly took on that promise.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for into the spiderverse as I've been itching to write a 'Peter B getting his life together' fic and it's kinda a mess. The title is a song lyric reference to this [ cute lil jam ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdsKAOaOUV0) by Okdal that I've been listening to lately.


End file.
